


Day 1: Phone Sex

by ChutJeDors



Series: CJD's 2020 Spank Bank Challenge [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: 30 Days of Smut Challenge, Dad Jokes, Dirty Talk, Family Fluff, M/M, Phone Sex, Sexual Fantasy, author needs to be blocked and put into pun prison immediately., author somehow wrote this in two hours and is still alive, fish brains, yey! (?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24494131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChutJeDors/pseuds/ChutJeDors
Summary: “I’m— Paul—” John gasped, his grip on the phone slipping as he sped up the movements of his hand, his hips canting up into the touch as he wanked himself off with abandon. “I’m so— soclose—”There was a moment’s pause, and then Paul’s voice, shaking with mirth and plain evil delight, said,“Hi close,”he paused for a millisecond, and that millisecond was enough for John to know what was happening, and for him to think,‘I love this man’.“I’m Dad.”-----The start of my 30 day smut challenge, as well as a standalone smut chapter for my fic5 Thomas Lane. Can be read without previous knowledge of the characters!
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Series: CJD's 2020 Spank Bank Challenge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770643
Comments: 29
Kudos: 91
Collections: CJD's 2020 Spank Bank Challenge





	Day 1: Phone Sex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImagineBeatles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineBeatles/gifts).
  * Inspired by [5 Thomas Lane](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13818678) by [ChutJeDors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChutJeDors/pseuds/ChutJeDors). 



> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
> 
> This is the start of my 30 day smut challenge month, lovingly called "spank bank challenge". I'm aiming to write one smut piece every day in June 2020, and decided to start with something easy and fluffy - so obviously 5 Thomas Lane John and Paul having fluffy phone sex, and doing really bad dad jokes during that call, so... sorry? i'm gonna put myself into pun prison now, i swear
> 
> this oneshot _will_ become a full-length chapter in the fic at some point! it takes place a little in the future, regarding 5TL, in the autumn 2018 to be specific (the current story is in autumn 2017). so yup, the kids are a little older than what you're used to ;)
> 
> gifted to Imaginebeatles, since i'm doing this whole month solely for her. ily mate <3 also a thanks to Daisy, my beta, and most enthusiastic supporter!!! i love you both!!
> 
> have fun guys!!!!

“So how’s it been so far? All good?” John asked, slipping his smartphone between his shoulder and ear as he lifted a heavy glass bowl from the dishwasher into one of the overhead cupboards. Paul, who would be sprawled on his hotel bed in a way that had John’s imagination thudding heavily in the back of his mind, let out a thoughtful hum.

_ “Well, certainly interesting. Makes you think.” _

“Yeah?”

_ “Yeah… their whole free education-thing and… all the other stuff. There’s a lot,” _ Paul said, in a tone that suggested he was waving a hand in the air — John wasn’t sure how he could hear that from the man’s voice, but, oh well. Living with the same person for some twenty odd years does that to you.  _ “I’ll tell you later. Been listening to the same jargon for three days already, I really don’t wanna go there right now.” _

John chuckled, absentmindedly nodding in sympathy as he continued unloading the washer. Paul was, along with a bunch of other English teachers from Liverpool, on a two-week long education-conference-something trip in Finland. He had left on a train to London five days ago, and although John wanted to call himself an independent, strong house husband who needs No Man, he had to admit that he might’ve needed One Man. The absence of the love of his life  _ was _ gnawing on him a little. Just a tiny bit. Ugh.

“Wanna tell the kids goodnight?” he suggested instead of voicing his thoughts, and to Paul’s agreeing hum he left the dishwasher — he could do it in the morning just fine, it was fine, no one would  _ die _ — and headed into the living room, where Vera and Chuck were watching the Avatar series on Netflix.

“Guys, you wanna say good night to Pop?” he asked, and Chuck immediately jumped up and rushed towards him, holding his hand out for the phone. Vera — entering her rebellious teenage years, it seemed — was giving him a bit of a “ugh, Dad, you couldn’t have waited until the episode was over” -eye, but nevertheless reached out for the remote to pause the show.

“Hi Pop!!” Chuck was hollering into the phone, and John could hear the warm timbre of Paul’s voice as he spoke to their youngest, fondness and amusement echoing through the line all the way from Finland.

“You ate a whole, a whole dried fish??” Chuck’s mouth dropped open, and he looked up at John with awe shining in his eyes before his face started morphing into a delighted, terrifying grin. He had developed that expression some three months ago, and now John suspected the 7-year old was becoming the Devil himself.

“That is, that’s so  _ cool,” _ the boy then declared. “Did it— did it, did it have a, a  _ brain still??” _

_ “Yuck,”  _ Vera mouthed, and John covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stop himself from smiling. God, children.

“Brain! Brain! Brain!” Chuck started chanting, spinning wildly towards Vera. “Pop ate a  _ fish brain!!” _

“Sure, but I don’t wanna hear it!” Vera said in a slightly raised, tight voice, looking like she was about to bolt any time.

_ “Brraaiiinnn!!” _

“Stop it!!”

_ “FISH BRAIN!!” _

“Alright, so—” John stepped forward and snatched the phone from Chuck’s hand, bringing it to his ear. Paul was full-on laughing, his chortles warming up John’s chest. “That was a good, excellent good night. We’ll— I’m gonna—”

“FISH BRAIN, FISH BRAIN, _ FISH BRAIN, FISH BRAIN—” _

“—Just gonna call you back later.”

_ “Yeah,” _ Paul laughed, coughing a couple of times.  _ “Jesus. The others never had  _ **_that_ ** _ phase.” _

“Well,” John said, as Vera ran out of the room with Chuck at her heels, still chanting  _ “brain” _ with a possessed glint in his eyes. “He’s the only one with my genes. I can safely say it’s only gonna get worse.”

_ “Oh, God.” _

**_*~**~*_ **

Forty minutes later, the kids had been forced to go to bed, seeing as it was a school day tomorrow, and John had withdrawn into the master bedroom. He suspected Dave might still make a late appearance, emerging from his bedroom in an hour for a late evening snack, but fortunately their eldest was old enough to be fully capable of pouring his own orange juice.

After having pulled on his sleeping shorts and an old t-shirt, he stopped in front of the bed with his phone in hand, quietly staring at the empty spot on Paul’s side.

Sighing to himself, he crawled under the covers and dialled Paul, contemplating the situation for a moment before rolling over and planting his face against Paul’s pillow, inhaling deeply the scent of his husband that lingered in the fabric.

Hmm. It was probably time to change the sheets, now that he was thinking about it.

_ “Hullo!” _ Paul’s voice blasted into his ear with the warmth now directed at John, and John let out a small, pleased hum. God, he missed his man.

“Hi,” he mumbled. “So. What’re you wearing?”

Paul broke into laughter. 

_ “Straight to the point, huh?” _

“My  _ dick _ wants to go straight to the point, that is, your arse.” John sighed and turned his head to rest his cheek on the pillow. God, the need for some action was thrumming in his veins, and hearing Paul’s chuckles only seemed to deepen that feeling. Five — or was it six? — days without release… without  _ Paul… _ And John was supposed to be taking it for over a week more? Nuh-uh, not in  _ any  _ world.

_ “Oh, with that swing it’ll be a hole-in-one,”  _ Paul answered, and John couldn’t help but break into small snickers. God, they were  _ awful.  _ No wonder the kids were always groaning.

“Paul. Clothes. Yes or no.”

_ “It’s a yes from me. You? Let me guess, it’s those shorts again.” _

“How’d you know,” John chuckled. “You? What are you doing with clothes on?!. Get them off.”

Paul laughed, and then his voice came a bit farther away with a certain shuffling sound in the background that John took as Paul obeying his wishes.

“That was easy,” John told him with his eyebrows raised once Paul was back with the phone on his ear, and received a snort in return.

_ “C’mon, love, as if you’re the only one in need.” _

“Am I?” John asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question: under the bed covers, with his nostrils filled with Paul’s scent from the pillow, he let his hand slip down and under the waistband of his shorts, a soft sigh escaping as he traced a finger over his hardening cock. “Tell me.”

_ “I’m— I’ve been sitting in so many different chairs over the last few days my arse feels numb, and all I’ve been thinking is I’d rather have that from sitting on  _ **_you,”_ ** Paul said in a rush, his voice having gone breathless. John knew he would’ve caught the sigh; he would also know what it meant.

“Jesus, Paul,” he muttered, a shiver wrecking his body from head to toe. God, no matter how many years he spent with this man, somehow Paul still managed to pull out surprises along the way. 

_ “I’ve got this thought, that when I come back you’re at the airport, you’ve booked a hotel room—” _

A decision to do exactly that flashed in John’s mind, but he didn’t say anything; only traced his finger over his erection again, his hips jerking against his will at the light touch. 

“Yeah, ‘cos I wouldn’t be able to go on another day without seeing you,” he murmured with a hoarse voice, and Paul let out a small choked sound in response.

_ “Y-yeah, yeah, that. So you, you’ve done that, and we— we get into the car, and have a  _ **_very_ ** _ thorough snog. Can’t go too far, ‘cos we still gotta sign into the hotel, but I can’t stand not touching you when you’re  _ **_there,_ ** _ and so I might… I might get low, might mouth you a little through your trousers—” _

“Fucking Christ,” John groaned as quietly as he could, need and pleasure both jolting inside of him, travelling up his spine in such a strong current that he turned onto his side, his body curling into itself. Clutching at the phone in one hand, he imagined just that: Paul pulling him into a desperate snog the moment they were inside the car, their lips meeting in the middle for a harsh, biting kiss, until Paul would push him back and bend down to cover the bulge in his trousers with his hot, waiting mouth, humming in that sinful, velvety voice of his, his hands clutching at John’s shirt and thigh, keeping him in place.

_ “—And, and we know we can’t do it  _ **_there,_ ** _ and there’s the hotel room, so after a bit I let you go. And you’re all red in the face and trembling, ‘cos you need it so much, and God, John, you’re gonna need it  _ **_so much.”_ **

“Yeah,” John gasped, already indeed needing it very much. “Yeah, I— please, love, go on.”

_ “So,”  _ Paul’s voice got lower, his breathing already laboured. John knew neither of them had started properly touching themselves yet — they knew to save it for later, but it was evident how much Paul had missed his touch, if a mere fantasy got him going like  _ this. _

(Rrright, so John wasn’t the best person to speak here, literally sweating through the mattress at the thought of his husband giving him a kiss, but at least he wasn’t alone in this.)

_ “We get to the hotel, and the receptionist looks at us  _ **_exactly_ ** _ like they know what’s going to happen—” _

“Of course they know,” John just  _ had  _ to say, “we’ll be walking in like two red tomatoes, and one of us has either jizzed their jeans or came in them.”

_ “Technicalities, John. Anyway—”  _ John coughed out a laugh at that, and as Paul continued, he could hear a smile in his voice, too.  _ “We get into the hotel room, and at that moment I slam you against the nearest wall, and get down on my knees. I’ll— I’ll mouth at your trousers again, ‘cos I love the feel of it, love everything that’s about to come, and especially I love you moaning, having me exactly where you need me, but not getting what you  _ **_need.”_ **

John had to bite the pillow to stop the unholy, 120dB moan that he nearly belted out right there and then. God, oh Jesus almighty. He was completely in Paul’s hands, here.

_ “You’ll hold my head, pressing it against your dick, and you’ll be moaning like— like there’s no end to it, God, John, I love it when you’re just making those sounds, and you can’t stop. But I’m still not taking you out, ‘cos I know you’re so desperate that you’ll come in minutes if I do.” _

“I’m gonna come in minutes  _ now,”  _ John groused out, and Paul laughed with a deliciously  _ melted _ voice, the sound of it dripping over John like warm syrup. 

_ “I know you can hold it, love— actually, yeah, ‘cos I  _ **_know_ ** _ you’ll be able to, I’m gonna just reach up and squeeze your balls through your trousers, and—” _

“You goddamn wanker!!”

Paul broke into peals of laughter, and John joined in soon afterwards, after having reeled in a surprise orgasm that  _ nearly _ got him. Wow, he needed to look out for those. He hadn’t even started properly touching himself, and he was already hard as a rock — and could bet Paul was there too. Distance… distance tended to do that to them. Okay, so they  _ were _ pathetically in love. Fortunately John had no problem milking that cow till it was empty, and  _ that _ particular cow was never emptying, as far as he was concerned.

_ “Okay, okay,”  _ Paul chuckled,  _ “so I will squeeze, and eventually you won’t be able to string two words together— you’ll be babbling incoherently, and trembling, and you’re going to be like melted butter in me hands, and then I’ll pull you to the bed and push you down on it… gonna kiss you, kiss you so hard it’s going to be aching, gonna grip your head and fuck my tongue inside your mouth, and then I’m gonna peel off your clothes, one by one, until you’re all naked and unable to move, since you’re so fucking gone already… And then I’ll, I’ll, I’ll get the lube, and I’m going to touch you for the first time, and it’s going to feel  _ **_so good.”_ **

John, at that point, decidedly wrapped his fingers around himself, and started pulling himself off, sweat pooling on his forehead as he let out moans, his voice still muffled by the pillow. He knew that Paul would hear his muted tones, would know what it  _ meant, _ and would be turned on by the thought — and that in turn spurred John on, his stomach coiling over itself as he tugged on his cock a little faster.

_ “I’ll prepare you, and then myself, and then— then, John, God, I’m gonna— I’m gonna push down onto you, gonna feel  _ **_you,_ ** _ filling me, inch by— by inch,  _ **_Fuck,_ ** _ and it’s… you’re…” _ Paul panted into his ear, and now there were slick sounds accompanied by his voice, sounds that made John’s toes curl, his body trembling as he now fully chased his pleasure, lost in Paul’s fantasy.

_ “You’re going to be lying there, and your face— John—”  _ Paul’s voice shook, and he suddenly sounded close to tears. John let out a sympathising sound, knowing that Paul caught it, knowing what he was imagining; he thought of Paul, hovering above him, sweat trickling down his temples, eyes drinking in the sight of John underneath him, lust and need and love pulsing in his expression, desperate want coming out in waves with every movement of his body.

_ “I’ll fuck myself on your cock, and it’s gonna be so good, after all that time, it’s gonna be stretching me and I’ll be  _ **_tight_ ** _ , I can feel you  _ **_everywhere_ ** _ … And I’ll lean down and kiss you, and you’re  _ **_mine_ ** _ , and I’m gonna tell it to you. Gonna, gonna take your body like you take mine, and it’s gonna— it’s, John, I love you  _ **_so much_ ** _ —” _

“I’m— Paul—” John gasped, his grip on the phone slipping as he sped up the movements of his hand, his hips canting up into the touch as he wanked himself off with abandon. “I’m so— so  _ close—” _

There was a moment’s pause, and then Paul’s voice, shaking with mirth and plain evil  _ delight, _ said,

_ “Hi close,” _ he paused for a millisecond, and that millisecond was enough for John to know what was happening, and for him to think,  _ ‘I love this man’. _

_ “I’m Dad.” _

“Ha— ha, ha,  _ fuck—” _ John laughed, and at the same moment he went over the brink, his orgasm slamming into him and washing over him in waves, and he had to bury his head into Paul’s pillow in an order to muffle any and all moans that escaped with the intensity that was the pleasure shooting through him.

A couple of minutes later, as Paul had finished himself off with a groan that nearly had John going again, they lay in their respective beds, gasping for breath and listening to the other do the same.

_ “That was nice,” _ Paul eventually said, with undertones of amusement still present. His voice was wonderfully hoarse and raspy, but it wasn’t from the orgasm; no, it was from laughing himself silly after John had cursed him to the moon and back.

“I bet,” John grinned, and they both let out amused hums at the same time.

_ “God, I wanna brag to someone about that, but I can’t really tell the story to anyone.”_

John laughed. Oh, he knew  _ that _ dilemma.

“You can brag to me. I don’t mind.”

_“Oh?”_ Paul sounded delighted again. _“Well, it was_ _**great** .”_

“How is it that I love you,” John said dryly, to which Paul let out a snort. Right-o, then. Such a loving husband and all that jazz.

They lay in a comfortable silence for a while more, and all John could think of was how much he’d love to be in that hotel room already, lying next to Paul, watching his chest rise and fall as they breathed together, their hands linked as they basked in the feeling of seeing each other for the first time in two weeks. They weren’t  _ used _ to long absences like this. John would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt, on some level.

As if reading his thoughts, Paul’s voice picked up in a soft murmur.

_ “I miss you so much.” _

“I miss you too,” John sighed. “More than you know.”

_ “No… I  _ **_know_ ** _.” _

Yeah. John guessed he did.

Hmm. How much would one night at an airport hotel cost anyway?

**Author's Note:**

> BLEASE tell me if you liked it!!!!! :DDDDD watch out for tomorrow's smut ;)
> 
> if you guys have prompts you want me to write during this month, just leave a comment below, or contact me on my [tumblr!](https://chut-je-dors.tumblr.com)


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